Cracks in His Armor
by fwuzzfwuzz
Summary: The last time Harvey asked why he looked so flushed; it was because he was high


AN: I'm currently obsessed with this show, it is amazing. I posted this on livejournal but I thought I would post it here, also.

The last time Harvey asked why he looked so flushed; it was because he was high. Therefore, he was understandably nervous the second time around.

In his defense, this week had not been the easiest.

Over his lifetime, few people noticed him. There were even fewer people who cared or commented on his well being.

Then there was Harvey.

Harvey was hard to read, hard to predict, and Mike was in a constant state of fear to let him down.

For that reason, when he had started to get sick earlier in the week, he had done his best to ignore it. What type of person called in sick on the first month of the job?

He exited the polished silver elevators; the buffed and shiny floors were a stark contrast to the dingy linoleum of his apartment.

After he walked into the glossy picturesque entrance to Pearson Hardman, Instead of eliciting a contented sigh all he could muster was a dull flick of the eyes to the secretaries and a half wave at Donna as he trudged to his cubicle.

Mike wedged his finger under his tie, and pulled at it gently. He was already starting his gradual tie loosening but about two hours earlier than usual. His throat felt scratchy and sore as if he had been screaming all night.

Last night.

Hot and itchy, he tossed and turned which caused him to sleep maybe a couple hours. Sometimes he could get busy enough that when he got home, he would just fall into a coma. Other times he would be awake enough to worry, stress about something that happened that day, remember something that he did not do.

Occasionally, it would get so bad that he would get up and leave for the office to relieve his mind of the anxiety.

He collapsed into his desk chair; it squeaked under pressure and clicked when it turned. He actually rather liked it, his chair had character. His preoccupation with his office furniture distracted him from his fellow associate who materialized out of thin air.

"Hangover?" Gregory asked with forced nonchalance. Mike ignored it as he pretended to be in deep concentration with typing out his password.

He did not trust Gregory. The man was what came to mind when thinking about lawyers - greedy, devious, and ambitious. All of these were traits that Mike did not excel in.

Whatever happened with getting ahead by good old-fashioned hard work? Mike could almost hear Harvey laughing at that, but then again, Mike could not deny that Harvey was a hard worker.

His computer started to load up his profile and he looked at Gregory, still expectantly standing there.

"Can I help you?" It was question but it sounded more like _"Get the hell out of my face"._

Turned out, Louis wanted to have another tête-à-tête. Mike felt Gregory was overly satisfied when he delivered the news.

He smothered the overwhelming need to punch Gregory in the face and went to confront the impending doom that Louis planned to bring.

After the whole pot fiasco, Louis had made it his goal to ensure Mike's life was a living hell.

He let himself into Louis' enormous office.

Louis looked like a villain in his tall leather back chair and abnormally shiny suit. All he needed was a white fluffy cat to pet as he shared his plan on how he was going to ruin Mike.

Louis pretended to be busy and was obviously ignoring him.

Mike shuffled a bit and fiddled with his sleeve cuff.

Louis continued to scratch into a paper and Mike rolled his eyes, "You wanted to see me?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Luis acted surprised that he was there. He looked at him as a lion does to its prey. Mike shifted nervously. He glanced at the door.

A tense few seconds and Louis ran his fingers across a plastic key card, "I need you to look over these briefs by tomorrow."

Mike felt his stomach turn at the thought, "I don't think I have time for that, Harvey has a lot of assignments for me to do." He trailed off at Louis' frown.

"I know Harvey doesn't have any pressing matters at the moment, so now that you have all this free time I am giving you this job. My demands are not your options."

Louis had a look on his face that scared Mike. Louis ran his tongue across his large white teeth.

Louis picked up the copy room key card and waved it in the air, "Remember, I expect this to be done by tomorrow morning."

Mike considered buying a dartboard with Louis' face tacked on it as he grabbed the card and left the room without a reply.

He walked into the room full of cubicles and noticed someone was at his desk.

Harvey sat in his chair; the taller man looked pensive if not a little bored. As he turned around in Mike's chair, he looked down annoyed, most likely hearing the clicks. Mike hurried over before Harvey decided to replace his chair.

Harvey had Mike's yellow note pad sitting in his lap, the one he brought along to many meetings and court appearances.

"Is this a drawing of Rachel?" Harvey asked, He twirled his seat around with raised eyebrows and his ever-present smirk.

Of course, he would see that. Not the smart observations on their last case, or the Pascal's triangle on the fifth page, just the doodle he did while talking to the patent reps.

Mike grabbed the notepad from Harvey and stuffed it in a drawer.

"Why so defensive, it's pretty good." Harvey gave him a cursory glance. Mike looked down, embarrassed, avoiding Harvey's eyes.

Harvey continued, "We have a meeting with a client in a half an hour."

Mike leaned on his desk, "You could just email me, no need to make the trip." He urged. Harvey never kept to himself when he was at Mike's desk.

"How am I supposed to keep an eye on you if I don't stop by once in a while?" Harvey remarked.

He gracefully got up and buttoned his sleek three-piece Armani suit. He stood there and Mike realized he was waiting for a reply.

Mike ran his hand through his hair, "I'll be there in a moment."

"Good." Harvey narrowed his eyes, which made Mike feel uncomfortable, "Fix your tie. It looks sloppy." With that, he left to his own office.

He exhaled loudly.

How did Harvey expect him to look like untouched movie star every second when he spent half his time crawling through cobwebs of dusty bookshelves to find illusive files that they were probably never going to need?

He sat down and took a deep breath relishing the first five minutes he had to himself. Several people rushed by him as he stared off into space attempting to shake off the general heaviness of his body. He could use a strong cup of coffee.

He survived last week with only two overnighters. It was his personal goal to bring this week down to one. Although, the route this week was going, he would be stuck here until he was a skeleton holding a highlighter. Did Harvey really notice how hard he was working?

Harvey was on the phone when Mike entered his office. He motioned for Mike to sit down.

Mike did not, instead opted to look out the large glass window overlooking New York City.

For a brief moment, there was just the sound of Harvey's confident but placating voice filling the office. The little toy-like cars and ant-like people were glittering across the city landscape. He gazed at the mesmerizing movement.

Harvey dropped the handset on the receiver, which shook Mike from his musings.

Donna stuck her head in and said their client was there. Harvey nodded.

Their client entered and took a seat. Her name was Marcia Gooding and they were handling a sexual harassment case the came from her Telecommunications company. One of the senior managers insisted that she made sexual advances to him. He intended to file a lawsuit.

Marcia was wearing a slimming red dress, with a black fur collar and an ostentatious hat that Mike only thought existed in British Royal Events. She was pretty, even with her lined face and wispy blond hair.

She had calculating green eyes that ran approvingly across Harvey. She did not even deign to glance at Mike. Who was grateful for that, fearing he would not meet her standards.

Marcia appeared to be naturally flirtatious, littering pet names and tinkling laughs throughout the conversation.

At the end of the meeting, Mike found himself with a username and password to all the email records and a large file for Aaron's personnel record. Harvey gave him the directions to "find something incriminating".

After Marcia left, Mike wondered if having Marcia in the courtroom would be incriminating by itself but Harvey just waved it off and shooed him out of his office.

Louis stopped him in the hallway and made a thinly veiled threat since Mike had not even started to review the briefs. Mike began to feel overwhelmed, but was able assure Louis that he was not ignoring anything.

Instead of heading to his desk though, he ended up at the water cooler. His mouth was dry and his head was just starting to ache. He downed a few cups of water and watched the liquid slosh in the clear plastic container.

"Looks like someone is developing a drinking habit."

Mike turned to see the svelte figure of Rachel. She stood in her red Louis Vuitton shoes, with shimmery white shirt tucked in a black pencil skirt and a stylish red belt around her waist.

Mike looked down at his cup and swirled the water a bit, "Throats been giving me problems." He acquiesced. Rachel just raised an eyebrow.

"Tea might work a bit better. There's a Chinese restaurant across the street." She suggested.

Mike was already shaking his head at the word "restaurant", "I need to get back to work." He tossed his cup into the trash and started walking to his cubicle. Rachel followed him.

She touched his shoulder and Mike stopped walking to look at her. She gave him a smile, "Hey, just let me know if you need anything, alright?" It was uncharacteristically kind of her.

She understood what it was like to have so much work that you felt as if you were to be consumed by a paper avalanche. Mike appreciated having an ally. She left him to his work.

He worked all day and through the night.

The sun rose higher and then lower, sinking below the mountains. The traffic of his floor grew sparse until there was no one there except for a single figure vacuuming one of the offices a few rooms down.

He squeezed his eyes shut; they stung from staring at a bright LCD screen for several hours. There was a stack of papers on his desk; they were all the emails that might weaken the case against Ms. Gooding.

They were not good enough, Mike knew it and he was sure Harvey would agree.

He blinked a few times trying to focus on the clock; it was approaching the time when everyone would start getting back in.

He grabbed a shirt and razor that he kept in his desk and headed to the bathroom.

After changing he looked halfway presentable. He threw water in his face, staring at the gaunt figure in the mirror trying to convince himself that today would be a better day than before.

The day did not get better, but it did not get any worse. Harvey was zipping in and out of the office barely giving Mike a sideways glance. He only asked for a copy of the emails and insisted that Mike keep looking. He was gone before Mike could even clarify what was needed.

Louis grabbed his briefs and clucked disapprovingly over a few minor details. It took all of Mike's willpower not to kick Louis' ass. Then Louis mentioned that he was holding onto a few volumes on his desk and that he would needs those done by tomorrow.

Mike wanted to disagree; he wanted to call Louis on it. That he planned this just because has some sort of vendetta against Mike.

However, he does not, it would be useless anyway. It would probably make things worse.

All he did was nod and watch with frustration as Louis reveled in his power and strutted away.

Rachel was the only welcome visitor of the day, shoving a carton of Lo Mein in his hand and demanding he eat something or he might disappear on them. That was the first time that day that Mike smiled genuinely.

By the time mid afternoon creeps by, he has nodded off about ten different times. He told himself that he can handle one more night, he reassured himself that the headache and the slight chill running through his body was just from lack of sleep. But he knew he was fooling himself.

Mike found himself staring blankly at his monitor; he does not even realize how much time has passed.

"Are you alright?"

Mike does not know how long Donna has been standing there watching him in his zombie-like state. A while was what he was guessing.

She looked a bit disapproving but there was a hint of concern. He knew that anything he told Donna went right to Harvey and he gave her a wavering smile. "Yeah, just looking over these emails."

She did not look convinced but left him alone. He wondered if Harvey was having her supervise him. The knots in his stomach tightened, fearing that Donna will blast at how little work he had done. He endeavored to work harder.

It was not until just after midnight that he finished the last half of the Alamo briefs and fell asleep at his desk, his head unattractively lolling off the back of his chair.

He woke up to a large file that slammed onto his desk. The large file was the personnel file that he meant to look over before he fell asleep. He looked at Harvey who carried an unreadable expression on his face; his lips were a straight thin line.

"This file looks frighteningly untouched."

Mikes stomach does a weird flip-flop and he can feel himself sweating, "I-" he cuts himself off, Snapping his mouth shut with a click. He was not sure what to say. He looked down; a rising feeling of shame filled his body.

When he first started here, he found that he should fear Louis and admire Harvey. Right now, he was more afraid of Harvey than anything. He looked up, not sure what he was going to see.

Harvey was still staring at him and Mike still could not read him.

"Get me something in an hour." Harvey ordered and left swiftly.

Mike sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose feeling a headache building up. He flicked open the folder hoping to find something that would bring him back into Harvey's good graces.

Thankfully, Mike was able to find something due to his decision to look into his past working history. A job Aaron, had about fifteen years ago, had been very revealing. He had been terminated and by a call to the HR department. He happened upon a loose-lipped secretary, who spilled the story since the man had been hitting on her friend.

Mike looked up, feeling as if the gods were looking out for him. With that, he excitedly barged into Harvey's office who consequently gave him a look of exasperation.

Mike backed up, "Sorry." He hesitated unsure if this was a good time. Harvey cleared his throat impatiently and Mike jumped into action.

"I found a report of sexual harassment by Aaron Solman at Vino Corp. fifteen years ago." He handed the report to Harvey, whose eyes lit up. Mike felt a cool relief wash over him.

Harvey was silent for a moment, "This is good. This will definitely strengthen our ability to throw out the case."

Mike feels elated at the praise but would rather sit down and go to sleep then jump around and celebrate. Harvey seemed to notice Mike's lack of celebrating and gently placed the paper down.

"Donna said you've been working pretty late." He prodded gently. Mike could not figure out why the older man would care.

Sometimes it seemed all Harvey cared about was winning the case. There were times he felt that Harvey gave a damn about him but then he would do or say something that would make Mike feel like an insignificant bug.

Mike cracked his knuckles in an attempt to stall, "Yeah just had to get a few things finished." He looked up, down, out the window, anywhere but Harvey feeling inexplicably nervous.

"Go home, clean up a little we have to present this in court this afternoon." Harvey replied, and then called out to Donna to get Marcia Gooding on the phone.

Mike was surprised with lack of reaction from Harvey, granted he was not looking at him.

He exited the office and then felt a pounding migraine come in at full force making him sway a little bit. Donna had her hand on her phone, he knew she was about to page Harvey but he mustered a reassuring smile.

He hated attention when he was not feeling well, he felt smothered. He walked briskly to the bathroom and he felt saliva build up into his mouth. He rushed into an open stall and promptly vomited.

His gripped the cold porcelain. His knuckles were white as he threw up whatever his stomach contained and dry-heaved for a few minutes. When He felt a little bit more in control, he turned around, attempting to catch his breath.

There was an odd ringing in his ear and he put his head between his knees to overcome any remaining nausea.

It was that moment that he accepted that he was totally and undeniably sick.

Accepting and doing something about it were two different things.

He got home, without any more pit stops. After shower and a fresh change of clothes he found that he was feeling a little bit better, if not a little warm, he attempted to shake off the tremors that ran through his body.

He excused it with being cold, being a little under the weather, there was not anything to worry about.

He popped a couple of aspirin in his mouth, which most likely was not the best idea because he felt his gag reflex start to activate from taking medicine on an empty stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the reflex until the feeling goes away.

He drank some orange juice. He remembered somewhere that vitamin C was supposed to make you feel better or something. He was too tired to remember the specifics.

On his way to work, he convinced himself that there was no way he could feel any worse.

Then he fell asleep on his bike. Ran into a fire hydrant and flipped over. Suffice to say it woke him up. It also hurt, a lot. For the life of him, he could not understand why he was more broken up about his torn suit than his bleeding hands.

Someone offered to call an ambulance. Mike shook himself out of his dazed state. He reassured them that he was fine took his stinging hands to his handlebars and biked away.

Harvey was not happy that Mike was late. They were supposed to leave for the courtroom 10 minutes ago. Mike was surprised Harvey just did not leave without him, but then again that would just make him too predictable.

It was an understatement to say that Harvey was upset with Mike's appearance. "Forget it; sit there until I get back." He pointed to his couch. He snapped his briefcase shut and stormed out of the office.

Mike stood there lost for a moment and saw as Donna watched him like a guard dog and he sat down hoping to appease her.

He felt like a kid in timeout.

The rising heat in the room made him feel sleepy. He lied down and curled up in the couch not caring what Harvey would say if he saw him.

The room looked wavy and his hands looked large. He watched them with glassy eyes. Were hands supposed to change size? The cuts on his strangely magnified hands were semi healed and he touched them tentatively and then hissed in pain.

His head was pounding harder and harder, the aspirin was not doing its job. It was as if a jackhammer had found a new location to excavate. He pushed his head against a cushion hoping that outside pressure would alleviate inside pressure.

After a couple minutes, he fell into a light, fitful sleep.

"Should we call for an ambulance?" A voice echoed through his foggy head. Harvey's voice.

A woman laughed, "He's not dying; it looks like he's just got a fever."

"He's not waking up, though." To emphasize the point, Harvey shook Mike roughly. This was most likely not the first time Harvey had done this.

Mike thought it would be best to respond before he was given whiplash. He groaned and blearily opened his eyes. Harvey was crouched down to the couch, a line creased between his eyebrows.

Donna was standing right behind him, holding a glass of water.

Mike stood up, too quickly, he noted, as the room spun around like a carousel. Donna handed him some water and he sipped it, not that thirsty.

"You look flushed." Harvey commented, and Mike shook his head.

"Not high." He replied and Harvey gave him an incredulous look. Was that joke too soon?

"You're sick." Harvey clarified, looking nonplussed at the idea of anyone being sick.

Mike shrugged.

"Yep." He replied as he placed the cup of water on the mahogany side table that was standing to the right of him.

Mike slowly looked at Harvey, who came across a little unnerved. Mike was at a loss of what to say to put Harvey's mind at ease when he was still unsure of why Harvey was upset.

Is he still mad about this afternoon?

Does he not like sick people in his office?

Alternatively, the wildest thing Mike can come up with; does Harvey Specter actually care about him?

"You should be sleeping at home." Harvey sounded frustrated, straightening himself to full posture.

"It wasn't really this bad on Monday." Mike sidestepped Harvey who was uncomfortably hovering.

"It's Wednesday." He stated blandly.

Mike frowned; the days have all rather morphed together to one long one. He felt himself shiver a little.

"You should've called in or at the very least not stayed the night doing God knows what since it's obviously wasn't what I assigned you -," Mike, not appreciating another long verbose lecture from Harvey, interrupted him.

"Just, just – I got it okay." He gestured for Harvey to stop talking with his eyes squinting at the achingly bright lights.

"You should sit down." Harvey inches around him. He had no idea what to do with a sick person.

Mike ignored him wiping the sweat off his brow; he walked to the doorway that Donna was inconveniently standing in front of.

He was tired of the way everyone looked at him, how no one would let him get in a word edgewise. Louis waved off every assertion that he works for Harvey. Harvey constantly rode him until he felt like he should be dying or at least sleeping for a long time.

He resented the way they treated him, resented the way they looked at him, and he was just too exhausted for more people in his space.

He felt a rise of anger bubble up in him and whirled around, "What exactly was the reason you were having me sit here for anyways."

Harvey looked uncomfortable, "Mike, really this isn't a good time-,"

"No, I waited; I deserve to know if I should be coming back in the morning." Mike bit out. Stress and anxiety over the past few weeks came out in droves.

He did not have the energy to play nice anymore. Moreover, the fact that Harvey was wavy mirage like figure in Mike's feverish state helped him be a little braver than usual.

"For god's sake, I'm not going fire you."

"Don't act like that's a stupid guess, you told me to sit there like I was some wayward child."

"You're overreacting."

"I'm not." Mike snaps.

Harvey looked away, his cheeks flushed a little. He was obviously upset, more likely than not, angry. Donna looked ready to put Mike in his place, but kept her mouth shut. She was obviously on Harvey's side.

"Fine." Harvey approached Mike who took a few steps back at the now raging bull, "You want to know." Throwing one hand in the air, he continued,

"Maybe you can explain to me your lackluster performance. How I seem to be second rung on your invisible list of duties." Harvey chewed out, now nose to nose with Mike.

"Louis-,"

He was cut off before he got started, "Don't even bring that name into this conversation."

Mike opened his mouth but could not really think of any other explanation. All the late nights were because of Louis' briefs.

He took a deep breath and stayed silent.

Harvey began to speak slowly and deliberately, "You work for me, not Louis. I expect you to ignore whatever fool's errand Louis has and make my requests a priority."

His voice was patronizing. Harvey acted as if all this was easy. Like Mike could just walk up to Louis and tell him to suck it, but it was not. This conversation was going nowhere.

Having enough, Mike walked around Donna and exited the room. Harvey's heavy steps slapped right behind him.

Before he could get a few feet away from the office, Harvey grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him around.

"Where are you going?"

"Going home." He shrugged Harvey's hand off his shoulder.

"You're not riding that bike with a 101 degree fever." Harvey nearly laughed at the thought.

Mike breathes out harshly, attempting to keep his emotions in check, "I am. I'll be fine."

"Oh, and those cuts on your hands are from tripping while exiting the elevator?" Harvey's voice was bitingly sarcastic.

Mike exploded.

"You know what? I don't want to deal with your shit right now, or Louis' shit, or whoever the else has my name on their itinerary to fuck me over." Mike shut his eyes and took a deep breath. This fever was making him lose most of his inhibitions.

He regretted that wording, not toward Louis but toward Harvey. He looked at Harvey who had a stony expression on his face, "Look I'm sorry, I just need some sleep and I'll be better in the morning."

Mike knew he was going to be fired. Right this moment he should just pack up his stuff and leave.

"I'm taking you home, and that's final." Harvey cracks his neck and straightens his suit.

Mike and Harvey stared down, the echoing of Harvey's demand bounced off the hallway walls. The idea they were having a standoff over something as small as how he was getting home was ridiculous to Mike.

He stood there, his chest felt tight and he let out a small scoff, "This is stupid."

Harvey does not say anything.

Mike clenched his jaw and looked up to the ceiling, "I can handle myself."

"And how's that working out for you?" _Again, with the sarcasm._

Mike pressed his lips tightly together and dropped his chin, "Fine."

What Harvey wants, Harvey gets.

It was tense walk, and a tense and silent ride to his apartment. Harvey does not even try to hide his disgust at where Mike lives. Mike does not care…that much.

It was not exactly derelict in its condition but the denizens huddled around the building were less than savory.

Mike was followed into his apartment; Harvey made sure that he was settled before leaving. He told him he'd fire him if he even thinks of showing up in the morning.

Mike was surprised he was not already fired but had chosen not to voice that. He did not really feel like talking and just nodded when Harvey gave him his card to call him, and that he would send someone to see if Mike was still alive tomorrow.

When he finally got Harvey out of his apartment, he just dropped onto his bed and fell asleep. He woke up several times in a cold sweat, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

Most of the time he would just lay there until he fell back asleep, a few times he walked to his freezer and stuck his head in there to cool down.

When the sun started to rise he finally fell into a deep sleep, which wasprobably why he didn't hear his phone ring the first eight times.

When he eventually realized that the ringing was not a school bell signifying he was late for class, he blearily opened his eyes. The phone doubled as his vision attempted to correct itself. He clawed for his phone until he was able to grab it and hit the talk button.

"Hello." His voice was scratchy from sleep.

"Most people answer the phone the first time someone calls." Harvey sounded grumpy which made Mike smile a little bit.

"Well, I was sleeping." He left it at that.

"How are you feeling?"

Mike quietly assessed his health. His fever certainly broke sometime last night. He was still a bit achy but better overall. "Better."

"Good." Harvey replied as if this was all business.

Mike had a wicked smile growing on his face, "You know Harvey, Kind of seems like you _care_."

Harvey responded with a dial tone.

The rest of the day filled up with on and off sleeping as he lazed in front of the TV and watched Jerry Springer. That evening pizza was mysteriously delivered to his house, which Mike, who felt his appetite returning, appreciated.

There was some gibberish-laden text message about the sent pizza. The reasoning was that Mike was far too scrawny and it was a bad reflection on the firm to have someone so undernourished representing them.

Mike wondered if Harvey excelled in creative writing at school.

The next morning Harvey called and implied some sort of grotesque death if he even tried to take his hunk of metal to work. Mike protested feeling and odd affection to his bike. He had a thing for inanimate objects.

Nonetheless, He took the cab Harvey ordered for him, and he arrived at work. He felt a lot better than the whole month put together.

He waved at Donna who still did not look happy with him; apparently, she did not shrug off blatant disrespect as easy as Harvey did. Mike planned to buy her flowers or something. Donna was not a good person to have mad at him.

The smile that was peaking out on his face quickly fell when he saw who was waiting at his cubicle, "Good morning, Louis."

He shrugged his bag off and dropped it on the floor. Louis sat primly on his desk and Mike wondered if the man could look any more effeminate.

Louis pushed a file his way, "I need you to draft a subpoena for this company in say about two hours."

"I'm really not sure how to do that." Mike trailed off as Louis straightened and glared at him.

"Well maybe you shouldn't work here if you don't know how to do the simplest documents in a law office. Even Rachel knows how to do this." Mike bristled at the way Louis said Rachel's name.

Mike rubbed his neck. "Ok, I'll get it done." Louis Cheshire cat-like grin spread on his face.

"Good." Louis walked away looking all too pleased with himself.

Harvey walked in about fifteen minutes later and he observed Mike's glare at a piece of paper. The only logical reasoning that Harvey could deduce was to burn the paper with his eyes.

"Did I assign you that?" Harvey startled Mike out of his brooding. He flushed.

"No, Louis did." Mike looked apprehensively at Harvey. This subject had been the biggest point of contention between the two; Harvey gave him a look as to say, "What am I going to do with you."

He looked around and pointed at Gregory, "You, what's your name?"

Greg shot up with his slimy grin, "Gregory Boone, Sir." He held out his hand which Harvey slapped the folder that Louis had handed Mike.

"Get this done for Louis, you're his associate right." Mike liked it better when Harvey's condescension was directed towards someone else. Gregory just nodded but gave Mike the "I'll kill you" eyes. Mike was too satisfied to care.

"Wipe that smirk off your face; we need to be at the court house in twenty minutes." Harvey said and started to walk towards the elevator.

Because of His long, quick strides, Mike nearly had to run to catch up, suddenly Harvey turned around which caused Mike to stop short.

Harvey rolled his eyes.

"For heaven's sake," Harvey grabbed Mike's tie, lifted his collar and tightened it to the point Mike felt as if he was choking.

Harvey dropped his collar and straightened the tie to the center, "That's been bothering me for weeks."

Mike did not know what to think, all he knew was the minute Harvey was not looking he was loosening the damn thing.


End file.
